


The Flash Job

by RetroactiveCon



Series: Stealing (Back) What You Want [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barry Allen Is A Human Vibrator, Handcuffs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21727165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: “Are you…stealing me?”“That implies I’d get to keep you, Scarlet.” Leonard wouldn’t mind stealing Barry for keeps, but he’d need Barry’s agreement for that. “It’s more like borrowing.”“Borrowing me to do what?”
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Series: Stealing (Back) What You Want [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565986
Comments: 12
Kudos: 363





	The Flash Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Makacska](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makacska/gifts).



> I was asked to follow up "Let's Go Steal a Hero" with either 100K of slow-burn and mutual pining or a smutty interlude based on Len's fantasy at the end. More the fool me, I said long fics are not my forte. Several days and _far_ more detailed porn than anticipated, I humbly offer some PWP.

The heist is Mick’s idea. The Central City Museum is showing an exhibit mostly of sculpted glass, but its centerpiece is a leaping flame carved from amber. Of course, Mick has to have it. There’s nothing in the exhibit that Leonard is particularly motivated to steal, but he loves the thrill of the chase, and there’s a chance the sweet little scarlet speedster will show up to stop him. 

Acquiring the amber sculpture takes ten minutes. Leonard has Mick leave without him; ordinarily, he would never do so, but Mick holds the statue with such reverence that he trusts him not to drop it. 

“You’re not coming with?”

Leonard smirks. “Someone has to stall the city’s scarlet defender. If we both leave, he’ll come after us, but if I stay, he’ll wonder what I’m planning.” If Leonard’s plan works well, Barry won’t have to wonder long. He has no reason to tell that to Mick. 

Mick arches an eyebrow. He’s not convinced—he knows Leonard too well—but he won’t demand answers (yet). “Ice him for me.” 

Leonard makes no promises. 

Barely two minutes after Mick leaves, Barry speeds into the room. As is his wont, he comes to a stop in the center of the room and looks around for Leonard. He’s still scanning the far side when Leonard comes up behind him, grabs his shoulder, and presses the cold gun against the small of his back. “Don’t move, Scarlet.” 

Barry twitches under his hand. “Really? You broke in just to get hold of me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” In fact, it’s true. Mick broke in for the statue; Leonard broke in for some quality time with Barry. “Hands above your head.” 

Slowly, as though emphasizing that he knows he doesn’t have to obey, Barry raises his hands above his head. Leonard keeps the cold gun pressed to his back. With the other hand, he secures power-dampening cuffs around his wrists. Barry makes a soft sound, half-shocked, half-betrayed. “Handcuffs?” 

“Move.” Leonard nudges him with the cold gun. “Come on, we can’t stay here.”

He guides Barry out of the building and through a series of back alleys. Their journey ends at a bungalow some six blocks from the museum. (It’s not one of Leonard’s preferred safe houses, which is the only reason he’s comfortable with bringing Barry here.) As they step inside, Barry asks, “Are you…stealing me?” 

“That implies I’d get to keep you, Scarlet.” Leonard wouldn’t mind stealing Barry for keeps, but he’d need Barry’s agreement for that. “It’s more like borrowing.” 

“Borrowing me to do what?” That isn’t a protest. In fact, if Leonard allows himself to read too much into it, Barry almost seems enthusiastic.

“I don’t know. What do you want me to do to you?” He drops his voice to a teasing purr. Barry shivers in a way that’s entirely unrelated to the cold gun pressed against his back. 

“Uh.” The kid’s voice goes high and breathy for a moment. Leonard tilts his head. That’s interesting. This might go better than he’d dared to hope. “What’s on offer?” 

Leonard sets the cold gun aside. Barry turns around, bewildered by the loss of pressure. Leonard takes advantage of this to back him against the wall. He keeps several inches of space between them to give Barry time to escape if he wants; he doesn’t. 

“I’m going to rough you up a little bit, Scarlet,” he promises. “It’s just up to you what that ‘roughing’ looks like. Tell me no, and we’ll stop, play-fight for a little while, exchange some witty banter, and I’ll let you go. Otherwise…” He drops his eyes to Barry’s lips, parted around shallow breaths. “…tell me I can kiss you.” 

“A thief asking for permission?” Barry laughs, breathless and dizzy. When Leonard doesn’t reply, he sinks back against the wall with a murmur of _“Yes.”_

Leonard closes the distance between them. Barry’s lips are every bit as soft as they look. His skin is fever-hot, to the point where Leonard wonders if he’s well enough to continue. 

“Are you sick, Scarlet?” He breaks away just far enough to ask a question. Barry’s eyes flutter open, half-focused and confused. Leonard skims a thumb over his lower lip just to feel the way it gives. “You’re feverish.”

Barry shakes his head. “No, just, uh…speedster heat, it’s normal.” He leans forward, chasing Leonard’s lips. Leonard can’t deny him when he so clearly wants to continue. 

The second kiss is longer, deeper, and sweeter. Leonard mouths at Barry’s lip and is surprised by a responding flicker of tongue. He’s going to deepen the kiss when Barry shifts his cuffed hands. “Okay, Scarlet?”

“Just a little tight.” He doesn’t look uncomfortable—he looks wrecked: eyes hazy and half-lidded, mouth slack, cheeks flushed up a beautiful pink. “But don’t take them off.”

“You like being cuffed?” Leonard runs a finger around Barry’s left wrist, a gentle counterpart to the unforgiving metal of the cuffs. Barry shivers and twitches his hand away. “Or…no, you want plausible deniability.”

Barry shakes his head. “I want you to steal me,” he murmurs. 

Fleetingly, Leonard lets himself entertain the fantasy that Barry wants to be stolen as much as Leonard would like to steal him. It’s a tantalizing thought—Barry in his lap or at his feet, as protected and well-cared-for as any other treasure Leonard has stolen—but can never be more than a dream. Barry is too radiantly good to tolerate being the kept boy of Central City’s cold-hearted criminal. “Do you?” he purrs. 

Barry shivers. “Yes, please.” 

Leonard scoops him over his shoulder. The kid makes a sound that’s somewhere between a yelp and a whimper. He makes the same noise when Leonard deposits him on the bed. Leonard knocks his thighs open wide, settles between them, and stares down at the lean, leather-clad body spread out beneath him. “So how does one go about getting you out of this cute little number?” He runs his finger down the placket of the suit. Logically, there’s a zipper underneath; he just wants to hear Barry say it. 

“Uh, it unzips.” Barry’s legs fall open wider when Leonard’s finger nears the lower portion of his suit. Playfully, he trails his hand back up, hooks a finger under the cowl, and bares Barry’s flushed face. “You’re a tease.”

“It’s only teasing if you don’t intend to follow through.” Slowly, Leonard finds the zipper tab and pulls it down. The suit remains in place until Leonard nudges it open; then it falls away from a slender, muscular torso. Barry holds up his cuffed hands as though asking how Leonard proposes to deal with them; in truth, he doesn’t. This is plenty of access for his needs. “And I fully intend to follow through.”

While he makes short work of the placket on the lower half of the suit, he kisses a meandering path across Barry’s chest. Barry’s bound hands scrabble at the hem of his sweater, but he refuses to shift into a position that would let the kid undress him. There will be time for that later; right now, he wants to explore. 

“I… _ah_ …I pictured ‘stealing’ involving a lot more taking what you wanted.” 

Leonard glances up and smirks. “I did, or don’t you remember me kidnapping you at gunpoint?” The lower half of the suit opens up. Barry hitches his hips up, clearly hoping Leonard will touch him, and lets out a needy little whine when he doesn’t get the friction he craves. “Now I’ve got you where I want you, and I get to appreciate the pretty little thing I’ve stolen.”

Barry squirms. “You think I’m pretty?” 

Leonard trails kisses down his sternum. “I think you’re breathtaking,” he admits between kisses. It’s too much—he should never have paid the kid such a genuine compliment. Thankfully, Barry seems too embarrassed by the praise to realize how exposed Leonard has just left himself. 

“Uh— _oh.”_ Barry’s reply turns into a shocked gasp when Leonard presses a lingering kiss to the trail of hair just below his navel. “Oh, okay, we’re gonna…do the sex thing now?”

Of course he’s impatient. Leonard doubts he’s moved this slowly since getting struck by lightning. That doesn’t mean he’s willing to hurry. He’s got Barry right where he wants him, and he fully intends to savor every second. 

Barry tolerates Leonard getting up because it involves undressing both of them. Barry’s boots and the lower half of the Flash suit are slowly and reverently removed; Leonard’s own clothes, by contrast, are stripped efficiently away and tossed aside. He settles between Barry’s legs, lower down this time, and maps the freckles on the insides of Barry’s thighs with his tongue. 

“Oh God.” Barry arches up into his mouth. His bound hands scrabble at the headboard, looking for purchase. Leonard considers scooting up the bed, pinning Barry’s wrists down, and kissing him again, but he’s far too happy where he is. “Len, fuck, _please…”_

“Please what?” Leonard trails kisses up to the jut of Barry’s hipbones. The skin is soft here, delicate—a careless bite could draw blood. Instead, he sets about sucking a mark over a cluster of freckles. 

“Harder, harder, please, I want it to last.” Barry’s cuffed hands drop down to cradle the back of his head. The edge of the cuffs presses unpleasantly against his scalp. He adds a graze of teeth, not hard enough to break skin but enough that Barry will feel it. It’s not enough. “Harder, please, you won’t break me…”

Just to be contrary, Leonard breaks away from that particular spot and instead kisses slowly back up to his neck. Barry’s cuffed hands wind up caught around his neck in an awkward embrace. It gives him just enough leverage to pull Leonard into a kiss. “You said you were going to follow through,” he accuses between short, sloppy kisses. 

“And you’re impatient.” While he’s close to it, Leonard reaches in the bedside table for lube and a condom. Barry perks up as soon as he hears the crinkle of foil—brat. Just for that, Leonard is going to have to delay a little longer. “If you beg me prettily enough, maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

He expects Barry to blush and fumble or instantly demur (“You choose, just do it _fast”_ ). Instead, he begs, “Please, I want…You stole me, you’ve got me, now _use me._ Whatever you want, however you want, just make yourself feel good.” His eyes flit away and he adds in a much softer voice, “Like I’m a toy.” 

Of all the things he’d expected from this encounter, Barry begging to make him feel good was not one of them. He clarifies, “You mean, pretend you’re some pretty little _object_ I stole?”

Barry nods. Leonard doesn’t like his expression—he looks as though he expects to be chided for a perfectly reasonable, if somewhat surprising, request. “Like I’m a toy,” he says again. 

“I’m hardly going to say no to an offer like that.” Leonard smiles at him, wicked and promising only because he doesn’t yet feel comfortable letting Barry know how fond he's become. “But I’m going to remind you: tell me no the moment I do something you don't like.” 

Barry nods. “I promise.” 

With this in mind, Leonard sits back on his heels and regards Barry anew. He could fuck him; he’d like nothing better than to watch Barry go to pieces and listen to the pretty noises he makes when he’s on the edge. That said, when he thinks ‘toy,’ his first thought is of a dildo or a plug. It’s been a while, and the thought of having Barry inside him sends a jolt of heat down his spine. 

This is emphatically _not_ how he thought this encounter would go. 

Barry’s eyes widen when Leonard gives him a few strokes to get him to full hardness. Nice to know Leonard’s sudden desire to ride the kid has caught both of them off-guard. Only when Leonard gives himself a cursory prepping does Barry whine low in his throat and pout, “I could do that.” 

“You wanted to keep the cuffs, Scarlet,” Leonard reminds him. “Besides, a cute little fucktoy can’t exactly help me out with this.” He makes a show of arching his back. When Barry whimpers, he pulls his fingers out, gives the kid another couple of strokes, and rolls the condom onto him.

Sinking down onto Barry’s cock burns, just slightly and in the best possible way. Leonard usually closes his eyes through the initial burn; this time, he forces himself to watch Barry’s reaction. The kid’s eyes flutter and he makes a low, desperate sound that goes straight to Leonard’s cock. _Fuck,_ but he’s going to have fun with this. 

“What?” Leonard teases. He settles on Barry’s hips and gives himself a moment to adjust to the stretch. Barry watches him with unabashed awe, as though he’s never seen anything as spectacular as the show Leonard is giving him now. “Never had someone ride your cock before, Scarlet?”

“Uh, no.” Barry reaches out, stops short of touching him, and stretches his arms out above his head. “Everyone wants to top me.”

“‘Topping’ is an attitude, not an action, Scarlet.” Leonard grins, a little too wide, a little too wild. He’s high on it already and they've barely gotten started. “Let me show you.”

He sets a hard, urgent pace that makes stars dance across his vision and drives little gasps and moans out of Barry. At first, he means to watch the kid—he’s so pretty, strung out on pleasure and completely at Leonard’s mercy—but at some point, his eyes fall closed and he forgets to open them again. 

Barry’s desperate little noises shift up in pitch the closer he gets to orgasm. When Leonard guesses he’s close, he slows his pace to a filthy grind. It’s not enough friction for either of them, and it makes Barry whine and buck his hips. He lacks the leverage to force Leonard to move. “ _Bastard.”_

“You told me to use you how I wanted, Scarlet.” Leonard wraps a hand around himself and strokes slowly. The right touch and he’ll be done for the night. That’s the last thing he wants right now. “Maybe I like to take my time.”

As soon as Barry draws a breath to answer, Leonard resumes his earlier pace. Barry keens and begs, “Take—take the cuffs off, I wanna…I can, oh God, I wanna…”

In another situation, Leonard would probably demand something to the effect of “Do you think I can get the key like this?” Fortunately, the power-dampening cuffs also have a fingerprint release. He only has to touch them to take them off. Barry watches through half-lidded eyes while he sets them aside; then, once Leonard is no longer at risk of dropping the cuffs, he _vibrates._

_“Fuck!”_ Leonard can’t remember screaming like that in bed under any circumstances. Barry’s cock is vibrating against his prostate, and the sudden burst of pleasure makes his vision white out. He hears the kid make a beautiful, trembling moan, but there’s no way he can respond. 

The vibrations die away into little irregular bursts that are too much for Leonard. Reluctantly, he lifts off of the kid and flops onto the mattress beside him. 

“You can vibrate?” he asks once his voice returns. 

Barry giggles. “Yeah. I’ve never done that with another person before. It sounded good?”

“So good.” Leonard traces his fingertips around the kid’s flushed, giddy face. He’s gorgeous like this, and for a single heartbeat, Leonard imagines keeping him here. It’s impossible—like he said, he’s only borrowing Barry for a while. Admittedly a pleasurable while, but this won’t happen again. “Was it what you wanted, Scarlet?”

“Yes.” Barry burrows closer. He’s radiantly warm and far too sweet for Leonard to resist, however averse to cuddling he usually is. In a small, contented voice, he murmurs, “You stole me.”

It’s the same thing he said when Leonard rescued him some month earlier, and in the same tone. This time, Leonard can’t blame it on the drugs. “You say that like you wanted to be stolen, Scarlet.”

Barry nods. “Mhmm, for months now. I wouldn’t mind you keeping me.” The scent of ozone touches the air. Leonard can only tell he’s moved by the fact that he opts to crawl in the far side of the bed and cuddle up to him a second time. 

“Really?” He wraps an arm comfortably around Barry’s shoulders. The kid makes a noise that can best be described as a purr. “You’d put yourself at a criminal’s mercy, Scarlet?” 

“This doesn’t seem very criminal.” Barry’s eyelashes flutter against his neck. He’s drifting to sleep, and Leonard is much too weak to oust him from the bed. “The only thing you stole from that museum was me.”

Oh, sweet naïf. Leonard isn’t going to correct him right now. “If you want to be kept, we could come to an agreement…when you’re awake enough to negotiate.”

Barry hums. “I’d like that,” he mumbles against Leonard’s neck. 

“Yeah.” Leonard presses a soft kiss to the kid’s spiky hair. “I would too.”


End file.
